


The Morning After the Somme

by cymanox



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: Past Abuse, Post-Episode: s02e03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-25 15:20:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14381436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cymanox/pseuds/cymanox
Summary: The part of the conversation we didn't get to see, before they shared a cigarette.





	The Morning After the Somme

It’s finally over. Meg and Mave and their twin girls are safe, and when they left the house, each sister had a baby in her arms. It’s a cold morning, and he wishes Sister Bernadette had taken him up on his offer to drive her back to Nonnatus. 

He’s glad she hasn’t left yet, though, as they lean against the boot of his car. They’re both exhausted, but he enjoys her company. 

In silence, they watch the ambulance drive away. 

As soon as it rounds the corner, Dr. Turner wakes from his reverie. He needs to ask, needs to be sure -- 

He turns to her. 

“Sister Bernadette, are you all right?”

She looks at him as though she doesn’t understand the question. 

“Well, it was certainly a difficult birth, but everything worked out all right in the end, so all’s well that ends well,” she says.

“No,” he says. “I mean, your face. She punched you hard enough to knock you to the floor.” 

“Oh, that!” She laughs. “I’m fine, Doctor. It’s not like I’ve never been punched before.”

“Other families have become violent with you?” 

He’s surprised. Patients and their families have outbursts all the time, but he’s never seen anyone attack one of the midwives before. Certainly not one of the nuns.

There’s a sudden blast of wind, and Dr. Turner tightens his jacket around himself. Across the road, a piece of litter skitters away.

In the pause, he can tell that the Sister is caught slightly off-guard. 

“No, not here in Poplar,” she says. “It was such a very long time ago. Thank you for your concern, Doctor, but I really am fine. And we should be getting on.”

Oh. It’s not very hard for him to put the pieces together, after that. She entered the Order too young to have been in a serious relationship, which doesn't leave many other options.

Eventually, he realizes that she’s still looking at him uncertainly. He can tell she wishes she hadn’t said anything, and his heart breaks for her, this woman he’s grown so fond of these last few months.

“Was it your father?” he asks, as gently as he can. He wishes he didn’t already know the answer.

Her startled eyes quickly dart up to meet his, then back to the stairway across the road.

“How did you --” 

“I see far too much of it. Bruises in shapes and places they shouldn’t be. Stories that don’t add up. Often enough it’s the mother, too, but with punching it’s usually the father.” 

“Wouldn’t have been possible anyway,” she mutters. “Mother was already gone.”

He knows this, of course -- that her mother died when she was young. But this is the first time he’s heard her say it aloud since she mentioned it when he opened up to her about his worry for Timothy. 

“So,” she says bracingly. “Like I said, it’s not a big deal.”

“I think you know it is,” he says quietly. She isn’t talking about Meg anymore, and neither is he.

She meets his eyes again, and this time she doesn’t break contact.

Later, he’ll watch her take a puff of his cigarette. She’ll say something more lighthearted about her father, and he’ll try to keep the anger out of his eyes. They’ll go their separate ways.

But for this one shared moment, doctor and nun just look at each other, and breathe.


End file.
